


Wounded

by LazyAdmiral



Series: Disaster Mage Trio one-shots [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), M/M, Mention of previous suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyAdmiral/pseuds/LazyAdmiral
Summary: The would-be murderer had been apprehended quickly, Alexius having handled the upstart with all the grace and aplomb one would expect of a former Magister of the Tevinter Imperium. And yet, as he approached the door leading to Alexius’ chambers – unguarded now, since his official pardon – Orsino still half-expected to open the door to another killer lurking in the shadows.-Prompt fill for Tumblr. Orsino patches Alexius up after an attempted assassination.
Relationships: Gereon Alexius/Orsino
Series: Disaster Mage Trio one-shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208723
Kudos: 1





	Wounded

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I don't know if you are still doing the shipping prompt thing, but if you do, could i please request ♟: Patching up a wound for alexius/orsino? Feel free to take your time and make it as angsty as you please~

The soles of Orsino’s boots tapped rapidly against the stone floor, echoing the panic-driven trill of his heart in his chest. Snatches of the spymaster’s words lingered in his ears.

_Alexius… assassination attempt… Venatori…_

There was a high-pitched ringing in his skull, the crackle and tension of lightning caught under his skin with nowhere to go. The would-be murderer had been apprehended quickly, Alexius having handled the upstart with all the grace and aplomb one would expect of a former Magister of the Tevinter Imperium. And yet, as he approached the door leading to Alexius’ chambers – unguarded now, since his official pardon – Orsino still half-expected to open the door to another killer lurking in the shadows.

His knuckles rapped loudly against the door.

“Gereon?” He could hear the shrill note in his voice and smothered a grimace.

There was a soft sound from within, almost like a sigh, before the reply came.

“Come in.”

Orsino entered, gaze swiftly zeroing in on the room’s sole occupant. Alexius stood near the window in front of a small mirror, his shirt cast aside on the back of the chair beside him. He held a cloth over his shoulder, and his expression was rueful as he turned to greet him.

“I did ask the spymaster to assure you I was quite fine, amatus.”

Orsino frowned as he approached him, eyeing the splotches of red on the ruined shirt as he passed before meeting his gaze.

“She didn’t mention you were injured,” he said, his tone carefully even.

Alexius’ mouth thinned slightly at the unspoken accusation, and he shook his head.

“It’s nothing serious. Barely more than a cut,” he explained with a wry quirk of his lips. “I didn’t see the point in raising the issue when I’m more than capable of handling it myself.”

Orsino narrowed his eyes, darting a look towards the cloth still pressed to his shoulder.

“Let me see.”

Alexius hesitated, which set alarm bells ringing in the other man’s mind.

“Amatus, I don’t–”

“Let me see,” Orsino repeated, holding his gaze as he quietly added, “ _Please_ , vhenan.”

Alexius held his gaze for a moment, long enough that Orsino suspected he might refuse, before a tired sigh left his lips. He nodded.

“Very well, if it will ease your mind. But it looks worse than it is, trust me,” he said, letting his hand fall to reveal the wound.

Orsino stepped forward, pushing back his own panic as he forced himself to study the injury with practised eyes. He was right about how severe it looked, the gash several inches long, deeper and cleaner at the top where the blade had entered, only to turn shallower and more ragged towards the end. It was still bleeding, albeit sluggishly, meaning it had only cut into the muscle tissue, missing any vital arteries, but what perturbed Orsino most was the discolouration around the cut, the flesh turning a mottled purple half an inch or so around the edges. He could pick out the hint of deathroot in the air, underneath the copper tang of blood.

“Poison?” he asked softly, a hand on Alexius’ arm drawing them both into better light so he could check inside the wound itself.

“Quite a ham-fisted attempt at it, yes,” Alexius admitted, his voice low as he turned to eye it himself. Orsino could feel his breath against his temple now, a reminder along with the warm flesh under his hands that he was _alive, alive, alive_. The tightness in his chest started to loosen as Alexius continued.

“It was slow-acting enough I had sufficient time to get back to my rooms and take a generic antidote, although I imagine it’ll do to keep an eye on it for the next few hours.” He gave a derisive snort. “Honestly, I’m beginning to feel a little insulted. I’d have thought the Venatori might have sent someone with at least a moderate level of skill if they wanted me dead, not some child with a jumped-up kitchen knife.”

He could tell Alexius was trying to offset the tension in the room with a little humour, but the dismissive tone set his teeth on edge. It was true that given the location of the wound, a mild poison might not pose any true threat to life – but had the knife gone a little deeper, or had the wound been somewhere more vulnerable, say near any vital organs…

Orsino drew back, jaw tight as the icy fear that had been lingering in his gut slowly turned to molten fury so intense he could feel his hands shaking with it. He jerked his head towards the chair before turning towards the drawers where Alexius kept an assortment of herbs, remedies, and tinctures in case of emergencies.

“Sit down,” he bit out in a tone that brooked no argument.

Perhaps Alexius sensed the sudden change in mood, or simply didn’t see the point in pushing the matter – regardless, he only paused for a moment before doing as he was told. In a few moments, Orsino had brought over what he needed. If it was only the wound he needed to worry about, he’d have simply taken care of it himself; healing magic might not be his speciality, but he was more than proficient enough to handle a simple stab wound. But the potential effects of the poison complicated matters – if the wound was closed without the poison being drawn out, it could cause worse problems.

Alexius, for his part, was a model patient as Orsino silently went about the task of properly cleaning the wound, his only protest a faint hissing of breath between his teeth at the first swipe of the cloth. Orsino’s touch was careful and controlled, at odds with the trembling rage that seemed to simmer just beneath his skin.

Warm brown eyes followed his movements warily.

“You know,” Alexius said, his voice soft and quiet, like he expected Orsino might shatter at the wrong word, “I’ve seen you protective over your charges, but I never picked you for a mother hen.”

Orsino’s responding glare was sharp as glass.

“And I didn’t think you had a death wish,” he practically snarled, turning away as his hands momentarily shook, glass bottles tinkling in his grasp as he put together a poultice for the poison. “Not any more, at least.”

Alexius was quiet at that, his expression sombre and thoughtful when Orsino turned back with steady hands. Somehow, that made it worse.

Orsino let out a breath, trying to reign in the mingled fright and fury currently warring through him as he applied the poultice.

“Why didn’t you get help? Why insist on handling this yourself?” he demanded. “Sister Leliana said they attacked when you were alone, well away from more crowded areas of the keep – you led them there, didn’t you? You knew you were being targetted.”

He looked towards the other man, not missing the flicker of guilt across his face before he sighed, looking away.

“I… suspected someone might be sent, after the pardon,” Alexius admitted. “So far, the spymaster has been careful to ensure I was never left unguarded for any length of time, and I imagine there was too much risk in sending an agent after me while she was watching. When I realised I was being followed, I wasn’t sure if I was simply being paranoid but I felt it better to lure any would-be assassin away. I’ve caused enough grief without putting others in the situation of being collateral damage.” He gave a quiet huff, a sound that just fell short of a laugh. “Besides, amatus, I was a member of the Magisterium. Attempts on my life have been something of a routine since long before I came to the south.”

Orsino nodded, not entirely sure how to respond as he finished covering the wound.

He knew what it was to live with the ever-present threat of attack hanging over him – in the Gallows, from the moment he woke to when he slipped into the Fade at night, his every waking second was a balancing act of placating Meredith and her loyal knights, and fighting tooth and nail to protect those mages under his care. It had been exhausting and had left him with an almost preternatural awareness of his surroundings, a consciousness of everyone around him and their movements and potential motives at all times. But there was something different in a constant threat from a known enemy – Templars could be many things, but they rarely hid behind friendly faces or posed as unassuming servants. He knew his adversary on sight, could avoid or confront them as needed. He could prepare.

But how did you prepare for an attack you didn’t know was coming?

Lost in his thoughts he hadn’t realised his hands had stilled, pressed to the gauze now wrapped over the wound, until Alexius lifted his other hand, placing it over his own. Orsino stared, feeling the warmth from Alexius’ hold leech into his own perpetually-frozen fingers, distantly marvelling yet again at how the sight seemed to settle something loose and rattling in his chest.

“I am aware that in my previous… state of mind, I might have had _other_ reasons for taking such risks,” Alexius murmured, his expression solemn but also open and warm as Orsino finally tilted his head to look back at him. “I won’t pretend those reasons are gone, but I am far more capable at ignoring them now than I was. For what it’s worth, I am sorry for worrying you. I will try not to let it happen again.”

The quietly earnest words were too much, simultaneously pouring water on the lingering embers of his anger while filling him with more feeling than he thought he could stand. In a moment, Orsino leaned down, cradling Alexius’ head in his hands and kissed him, trying to let the act speak the relief and fright and love that he couldn’t put into words.

Alexius’ good hand came to rest against the back of his neck, holding him in the embrace for a few dizzying moments more before letting him retreat to rest his forehead against the other. They lingered there, reluctant to let go.

Under his hands, Orsino could feel the slightest tremor, although whether from the cold air or delayed shock was unclear.

“You should rest,” he said, barely more than a whisper and yet still loud in the quiet room.

Alexius hummed, his eyes turning warm and teasing. “Perhaps. I suppose under the circumstances, continued observation might be wise.”

Despite everything, Orsino felt his mouth quirk with the beginnings of a smile. For a former master of Tevinter politics, Alexius could be about as subtle as a hammer when he felt like it. He straightened, feigning an innocent look.

“For the poison?” he asked.

Another hum of agreement, and Alexius caught his hand, entwining their fingers. He drew his prize in, pressing a featherlight kiss to the backs of Orsino’s knuckles.

“Stay a while?”

Orsino smiled – still a little shaken, perhaps, but a smile nonetheless – and leaned in for another kiss.

“Of course.”


End file.
